I'm not going to write an article about what it's like to have anxiety. I could do that. I have done that, but anxiety and panic disorder are entirely unique and personal things. No amount of specific words and adjectives can accurately describe what it's like to have anxiety to those who don't understand. It's a deeply personal and singular condition.

What I will write about is what it's like when it happens again. I'll write about what it feels like being five months anxiety free and then having a panic attack one morning.

It's a rude awakening. It's a feeling that you're familiar with, but it's been gone, a stranger you never missed. The stranger forces itself into your home, into your bedroom, into your body and mind, seizing all that makes sense and rational thought. The fear that comes with the stranger isn't stronger or worse than it was since the last time you saw this stranger, its different. It's a fear that echoes in your body whispering, "what if I've failed?"

That's what it feels like to have a panic attack after you've worked and worked to be free from the thing that has constrained you and reprimanded you for so long. It had felt irreparable, immobilizing. It was obvious when it started to dissipate, when it started to evaporate into yesterday's problem, last week's problem, last months. It faded into the morning fog until it wasn't something you thought about everyday.

But like the waning of the moon, it's not something that will retreat and never disappear. It is a cycle, nature, it's something that appears every day and every night, even if you won't look up at the sky to see it.

Anxiety is something that we deal with every single day of our lives. Panic disorder doesn't go away when the medication works or when you stop taking it, or when you're in a good place and you're loved. Panic disorder is as singular and personal as the skin on our bones and the blood in our veins.

I can't fill this page with words that will make you feel better for having another panic attack. But, I can tell you that I know how it feels. I know how it feels to have this golden accomplishment, and then feel like it was ripped away from you, as painful as if it were a rib.

Your achievement is still there.

You still lived, for however long, without a panic attack because of who you are.

We are a different breed of people. And, I mean that in the best possible way. We are warriors of the night. We fight off demons and strangers and feelings that others can't comprehend, and we still get up in the morning to go to work or school, to take care of our families and friends.

We still function.

Because we have to. Because we are warriors.

And sometimes people around you won't understand the circles under your eyes or your tendency to yawn. They'll think that you didn't get a good night's sleep, but really, your body was invaded, and you spent the hours beneath the moonlight or the sunlight fighting.

And, no matter how long, no matter how many times that stranger comes for a visit, we always win.

We prevail.

It's nature. We are people. Normal people who prepare for war everyday. We are people whose scars don't show on the outside, but whose skin is stronger, built firmer and thicker from the inside out. Even if we are called to battle again, we will fight, and we will win, because we know how.

So, it's going to hurt. The stomach pains and the shaking, the crying and the guilt. When it happens again, it will be horrible. Take your time to cry and to feel defeated, because its always okay to be sad. But, only as long as you lift your head back up, blow your nose, and realize that in no way have you lost. You have fought all the battles, you even won the war, today was just an echo of the past.

And you won.